


The Oncoming Storm.

by springburn



Series: Dr Who mini fics and prompts [11]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Interspecies Relationship(s), Premonitions, Sick Fic, Thoughts of the Future, love and angst, whouffaldi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 22:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5107400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springburn/pseuds/springburn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor has a strange and disturbing dream.</p>
<p>He and Clara travel to a distant planet as a favour to a friend.....a storm is brewing.....</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Oncoming Storm.

**Author's Note:**

> This adventure is set directly after the end of The Girl Who Lived.
> 
> I've taken into account some of the issues of the Doctor and Clara's relationship thus far in season nine.  
> Also an interview with Peter and Jenna, which really bought home to me the significance of the romantic aspect of their partnership.....
> 
> ....it’s the very fact that they DON’T say the things…the fact that they HAVEN’T kissed, that’s what makes it so brilliant. It is a romance, they do love each other, but it’s not practiced and it’s not discussed. It’s just held in, like an undercurrent, and it works brilliantly. 
> 
> So I wanted to incorporate elements of that into this story.

THE ONCOMING STORM.

 

_Out in the open._  
_Alone._  
_No idea where._  
_A slate grey sky, dusk fast approaching._  
_The stiff breeze, tugged at his hair and clothes, flapping his trousers against his legs._  
_Somehow his knees were torn......grazed and blooded._  
_Hands likewise, knuckles sore and scarified._  
_Drawing his inadequate jacket across his middle, he turned in a circle, trying to gauge where he might be._  
_A hundred yards ahead he could see the line of a hedgerow, a shadow looming up in the middle of its depths._  
_An ancient tree. Blasted by lightening, black and menacing against the sky._  
_It's wooden arms outstretched, as if reaching for him, gnarled fingerlike twigs creaking and groaning in the wind._  
_Black birds, like crows, their wings flapping, rose into the air, their cawing cries echoing over his head, as they wheeled round and away into the distance._  
_No dwelling could he see, not a soul._  
_Just the empty brown earth and the sky above, not a landmark on which to focus._  
_Stumbling, he began to walk, in the direction of the lightest horizon, hopeful of seeing something he might recognise._  
_There was an all pervading air of desolation, loss, and emptiness._  
_He was cold, the wind whipped his face, and it began to rain, suddenly. The heavens opened, pouring their moisture onto him, a heavy squall, that soon soaked through him._  
_Chilling him to the marrow._  
_Mud clung to his boots, as he moved forwards, making his way he knew not where._  
_With his vision blurred by the downpour, he could see a shape, laying near the hedge, he hurried towards it._  
_Clara._  
_Drenched to the skin._  
_Pale and still._  
_"Clara!"_

The sound tearing from his own lips woke him.

oOo

His own room, aboard the Tardis.  
Forehead damp and clammy, breathing hard as if he'd been running.  
How had he dozed off?  
He seldom felt the need for sleep, but the dream was still fresh, and it troubled him.  
The Tardis thrummed its friendly life force around him, as if she were trying to soothe him.  
It was just a dream, nothing more.  
Making his way to the console room, he slammed the lever down and materialised moments later, in her hallway.  
Mindful of the fact that she didn't like the Tardis in her bedroom, the blue box effectively blocked her front door.  
But no matter.  
She emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a tea towel.  
"Doctor? It's not Wednesday!"  
"Sorry!" He shuffled uneasily, eyes downcast.  
"Okay.....what's wrong? Why are you here?"  
"I......just needed to see you, I don't have to have a reason, do I?" He replied, defensively.  
She took his arm, lead him into the living room, pushed him down onto the sofa, seating herself at his side, looking into his face with concerned curiosity. She took both his hands in hers.  
"Tell me!" She said sharply.  
"It's nothing. I just had a dream is all. And I needed to know you were okay." He refused to meet her gaze.  
"So.....this dream.......was I hurt? Ill ? Dead ? Tell me !"  
"I'm not sure. You were laying on the ground, pale and not moving, I don't know what was wrong with you. I called your name, and woke myself up."  
"And was it just a dream? Or a premonition? A vision? What?"  
"I've no idea Clara. That's the truth. I was scared that's all."  
She dropped his hands,  
"I'll make us some tea!" She said softly. 

oOo

The planet Rython Four. In a far flung cosmic archipelago.  
They went in response to a message from Vastra. The only Goldilocks planet in that solar system.  
Similar in atmosphere and evolutionary history, to Earth.  
Colonised by the Silurians, and now under threat by an insect invasion, causing sickness and death.  
Mayhem on a massive scale.  
Of course he would go, to help Vastra's beleaguered people, a favour to a friend. 

On arrival he was struck by just how Earth-like it was. Similar flora and fauna, with one or two notable exceptions.  
Weather patterns almost identical, but perhaps a little more volatile.  
Climate and temperature consistent. Quite the home from home.  
Yet he felt uneasy. A nagging worry. 

The colonists were beset by attacking waves of hornet like winged insects.  
Ferocious, their buzz audible at a miles distance.  
With luck and using the Tardis database he could open a time portal, lure them in, and send them, en masse to a world compatible with their requirements, but free from other beings they could harm.  
A simple idea, what could possibly go wrong? 

oOo

The onslaught came before he was fully prepared.  
Terrified Silurians fleeing in all directions.  
They'd been given internal planetary teleporters, to aid them in moving from place to place.  
A press of the wrist band, and your thought processes did the rest.  
Took you where you wanted to go, anywhere on Rython's landmass. 

He wasn't sure how he and Clara became separated.  
They tried to run, he'd fallen, sprawling.  
He just knew they were surrounded.  
"Use the wrist band......somewhere safe!" He cried.  
There was a flash, and she disappeared.  
Seconds later he followed suit. 

oOo

 

Out in the open.   
Alone.  
No idea where.  
A slate grey sky, dusk fast approaching.   
The stiff breeze, tugged at his hair and clothes, flapping his trousers against his legs.  
Somehow his knees were torn......grazed and blooded.   
Hands likewise, knuckles sore and scarified.   
Drawing his inadequate jacket across his middle, he turned in a circle, trying to gauge where he might be.  
A hundred yards ahead he could see the line of a hedgerow, a shadow looming up in the middle of its depths.  
An ancient tree. Blasted by lightening, black and menacing against the sky.  
It's wooden arms outstretched, as if reaching for him, gnarled fingerlike twigs creaking and groaning in the wind.   
Black birds, like crows, their wings flapping, rose into the air, their cawing cries echoing over his head, as they wheeled round and away into the distance.   
No dwelling could he see, not a soul.   
Just the empty brown earth and the sky above, not a landmark on which to focus.  
Stumbling, he began to walk, in the direction of the lightest horizon, hopeful of seeing something he might recognise.   
There was an all pervading air of desolation, loss, and emptiness.   
He was cold, the wind whipped his face, and it began to rain, suddenly. The heavens opened, pouring their moisture onto him, a heavy squall, that soon soaked through him.   
Chilling him to the marrow.   
Mud clung to his boots, as he moved forwards, making his way he knew not where.  
With his vision blurred by the downpour, he could see a shape, laying near the hedge, he hurried towards it.  
Clara.  
Drenched to the skin.  
Pale and still.  
"Clara!" 

oOo

He reached her side, knelt down in the dirt.  
She was alive! Thank God!  
A hornet sting, red and livid on the side of her neck.  
He tried to reprogramme the wrist band, but the storm was interfering with its systems, causing it to malfunction.  
He looked about him, in desperation.  
Must get her under cover, out of the weather, somewhere warm and dry.  
A mighty storm was brewing.  
Building and gathering momentum by the moment.  
Scooping her up, he stumbled off in a direction he hoped might be the correct one.  
Towards where the sky was less inky black.  
After some ten minutes, he spied a cave, a vast hollow, in the side of an escarpment.  
Head down, against the wind, hitching the inert Clara closer to him, he struggled towards it. 

oOo

A sheen of perspiration coated her skin.  
Shivering involuntarily, teeth chattering.  
"It's alright Clara, you've been stung. But there's not enough venom to kill you. Your body will ride it out, in a few hours you should feel better."  
He fervently hoped that what he just said was true.  
Glancing around him, he took stock of their situation. The cave floor was dry, at least.  
Leaves from countless autumns had blown inside, collected in a mound in one corner near the back. Enough to make a makeshift bed of sorts, he removed his jacket to wrap around her.  
Hopefully he could find wood, start a fire.  
Attempt to keep her warm.  
Outside the wind was whipping up, it whistled and sang against the rock wall.  
Torrents of rain fell, relentless, the sky rent asunder with forks of lightning, followed by a roar of thunder.  
Echoing and reverberating in the very air around them.  
It was now almost wholly dark. 

In half an hour he'd lit a small blaze which crackled and spat.  
Made a hollow in the dried leaves and laid her down in the midst.  
She was complaining chronically of being cold, "So cold Doctor.....so so cold!", her small frame trembling all over.  
Eventually he settled down next to her, holding her as close as possible, encircled in his embrace.  
Sharing body warmth. 

He lay back, her head tucked against his chest and listened as the storm raged.  
Howling now, shrieking and wailing like a banshee, the wind continued to blow unhindered.  
With each flash, the lightning lit up the sky, a cold blue light, shooting past the mouth of the cave, illuminating every crevice and niche.  
Thunder followed seconds afterwards, right overhead, a colossal rolling drumbeat, rocking the little planet to its core.  
In one particularly bright flare, he spied a vast swirling tornado, turning and spiralling, sucking up everything in its path, and spewing out debris, left, right and centre, flinging the trees to one side, and mowing down everything in its path.  
The rain came in squalls, lessening one moment, then pummelling down anew the next, heavy, soaking downpours.  
Black as pitch now, apart from the fluorescent sheets of the electrical storm, the temperature rapidly dropped away.  
The Doctor could see his breath, in clouds in front of his own face, and he huddled himself a little closer to the now sleeping Clara.

Previously, she had been chilled to the bone.  
Now she burned, with a fever that would not abate.  
He could do nothing except bathe her forehead with a rain soaked handkerchief from his pocket.  
Scan her hourly with his sonic......not that it told him much......the poison still coursing through her veins.  
It didn't take a genius to work that out.  
When she woke he fed her some chocolate, he had stashed in his jacket. There was nothing but rain water to drink, and no vessel in which to collect it. But soaking the hanky in the puddles then squeezing it out, sufficed.

All the while the storm raged.  
The tempestuous wind blasting and battering as the cyclone deepened.  
For an hour, it suddenly calmed, as the eye passed directly over them, the ever practical Timelord took that opportunity to gather more firewood, some pine cones, anything that was not soaked and would burn.  
Scout out his surroundings, not that anyone was anywhere near.  
He knew the transporter was still useless, the system shut down, it would not function again until the weather improved. 

oOo

When he returned, Clara was sitting up, groggy, rocking herself, hugging her knees.  
Still feverish, but better, he gave her a drink and she took it, sipping thirstily.  
"What happened?" She whispered.  
"You were stung. Simple as that."  
"I feel like shit!" She said, matter of factly.  
He raised one eyebrow, but made no comment, then turned towards the cave mouth, as another crack rent the air, and the fury of the gale began to pick up again.  
"The eye of the storm has passed right over us. Now we have to wait for it to blow itself out."  
"How long?"  
"Five, maybe six hours? But I'm guessing here. Then the transporter system will be up and running again. We should be able to return to the city. Find the Tardis. If she's not been blown away!"  
"Six hours!" Clara groaned. "But I'm hot and tired and hungry and thirsty and sick and achy and......"  
"Annoying......" He concluded. "And clearly feeling much better if you have the strength to moan!"  
"Shut up!" She thumped his arm playfully. "Don't you have anything else that's edible in those pockets of yours?"  
"Only Jelly Babies!"  
She held out a begging hand.  
"Come on then, share the wealth!" 

oOo

 

He banked up the fire, it blazed, bright and friendly, sending shadows dancing over the granite roof and walls.  
She settled back into his embrace with a sigh.  
The sounds of the tempest outside turbulent and unforgiving, a maelstrom of leonine roaring.  
His eyes, reflecting the firelight, were no more than two points of light, as he stared unblinking into nothingness, his hand unconsciously rubbing her back, with a soothing, sweeping motion.  
"Doctor?"  
His movement stilled.  
"No......don't stop, it's nice."  
He continued.  
"So, your dream? It was a little glimpse of the future then? A seeing? More than a premonition?"  
"I guess. It's not unknown, to the Timelord race, little visions....foresight, I suppose you could call it."  
"I'm glad it was nothing worse."  
He tugged her closer.  
"Me too." He breathed. 

She curled into him, her hand somehow snaking its way up, underneath his jumper and t-shirt, resting against his bare skin.  
There was a sharp intake of breath at the contact.  
"Clara!" His voice carried a note of warning.  
Raising her head, she looked into his face, his eyes filled with emotion.  
"I've missed you Clara Oswald." He said, simply.  
Her other hand reached behind his head, pulling it down towards her own, he allowed her to place a kiss on his lips, but did not reciprocate.  
"Daft old man!" She smiled.  
His stricken expression surprised her.  
"What is it?" She asked.  
"I can't.....Clara......I know you don't see me that way......but I......I'm sorry, I'm not very good at......"  
Her mouth was on his, suddenly, warm, inviting, pulling him in........moving against his own. He could feel her heat, her passion, welling up, and he thought that he would burst.  
"Does that answer your unasked question Doctor?" She murmured, pulling back, her hand stroking across his cheek.  
His eyes fluttered shut, and he leaned into her touch, a little sound coming from him.  
"Oh Clara, my Clara, you have no idea!" Tears began to leak from under his lashes, and course down his face.  
"Then show me. Show me Doctor." She lifted his hands, and rested his fingers against her temples.  
"Show me what you want, so I can understand."  
He began to weep then, in earnest.  
"You'd do that? You'd do that for me? But you're still weak, sick with the poison."  
"Try me!"  
He almost caved in, came so close to just surrendering to that which he craved so desperately.  
"Clara, no! I can't do it. I can't ask this of you, not here, not now!"  
"Then when, Doctor? Always keeping me at arms length. Convincing yourself that I don't want you, and denying to yourself that you want me. Why?"  
"Because.......because....." He threw up his hands in a gesture of defeat, " because I'm sick, Clara, sick of losing."  
"Losing?"  
"Yes, losing everyone I become attached to.....because I lose them all, in the end. You say I'm denying myself.  
Not true.  
I'm protecting myself. From the pain, the hurt, after you've all gone, and I'm left behind. I'm tired Clara, tired of being the one left behind."  
"I'm not going anywhere." She touched his face, tenderly.  
He laughed, bitterly.  
"But you will though, and something tells me it'll be soon. Our days together are numbered, I can feel it."  
"Another premonition?"  
"If you like. I've felt it for a while now. I think that maybe you have too. I've been trying to ignore it. But it won't go away. I don't know when, I don't know how, but it's going to happen, and it's going to break me."  
His head sunk down into his hands in a gesture of despair.  
"Then we must use the time we have left. Not waste a moment of it. Travel, have fun, enjoy it while it lasts. Life is short, maybe not for you, but it is for me."  
"I don't think you quite understand Clara. It is not given to me to see your fate. Whether you live or die....or how. There are some things we shouldn't know."  
"We're all dying Doctor. One way or another. It's pointless to be afraid of death, or to look for it. It will happen when it happens. Nothing we do here will change that fact."  
"Noble words, my Clara. It's true our actions now may not change it, but they can make it exquisitely more painful, unbearable in fact. You are very dear to me, and to love you physically, then lose you would be more torture than if we remain as we are at the moment....the best of friends."  
"But I love you, Doctor. And I want you."  
"And I love you, but sometimes what we want, isn't what's best for us."  
Her head swam then, and she began to retch.  
"You are sick Clara. The poison is still working its way through your system. Lay back, against me. Close your eyes and try to sleep."  
She sunk against him, too weak and faint to argue.  
He drew her close, kissed the top of her head, pressing his lips into her hair.  
"Clara, my Clara! You'll never know how much you mean to me." He murmured.  
"Hmmm? Did you say something?" She whispered dreamily.  
"It's nothing Clara, you rest now, close to me. I'm here for you, we are bonded, whatever happens, we are connected more deeply than two people ever could be."  
She fell into a fitful sleep, held in his protective arms.  
His chest ached, his tears fell, he felt as if his hearts would burst, with the agony of it.  
Outside the gale whirled and spun, as he lay there with her in the darkness.  
Two people, both lost and cast adrift, in their own ways, floating on a boiling sea of trouble.

oOo

He woke with a start.  
A dream of fire and pain searing his thoughts.  
She was still and cool in his arms. Still sleeping, peaceful and at ease.  
The fever had passed and so had the storm.  
Extricating himself from her clinging embrace, he moved, stiff and sore, to the cave entrance.  
A scene of utter devastation met his eyes.  
The cyclone had ripped through everything, tearing down the trees, ripping them up from the roots.  
Flattening everything in its path.  
All around lay the bodies of the winged hornets, dead or dying.  
It seemed the weather had done his work for him, a massacre on a global scale.  
Destruction of the hive mind that sustained them, all vestige of what made this planet so appealing was gone.  
They could not endure such extremes. 

He returned to Clara, just as she began to rouse.  
"Come, Clara, the storm has passed. It's time to return to the city. If there is a city left to return to."  
She groaned as she sat up, still aching and weak.  
"What about the insects?" She asked, with a yawn.  
"Dead, or nearly so. I don't think we need to worry about being troubled further by them. Up you get!"  
He held out his hand to her, and she took it. He pulled her to her feet.  
"The night feels like a bad dream. I feel there are things that still need to be said between us, that we still need to address."  
She was looking at him earnestly. Her serious expression, her brows furrowed and concerned.  
"Whatever it is, it can wait, Clara. Let's get back to the Tardis. After we speak to the Silurians, I'm taking you home."  
"And then what? Are you going to run Doctor? As you always do?"  
"Better to run and leave you safe at home among your own kind, than weep over your broken and bleeding body on some far flung planet."  
"But that's not your choice Doctor. It's mine." She clasped him tight. Her head against his chest.  
"And I choose to live. Live until I die. I love you, and I'd rather die, if that's what's to happen, with you, than alone and safe and old and infirm. With no one to care about me. This is not resolved Doctor. You are not going to run this time."  
"Then we'll run together. Run and live and love. And when it's over, I'll continue on alone, as I've done so many times in my lives. Until finally I learn to love again, and move forwards. Never forgetting, never truly recovering, but learning and enduring, and being. Such is the gift of a Timelord, the blessing which is so often a curse." 

With that he pulled her to him, surrounding her small body with his arms, his lips locking with hers, kissing her until she almost fainted for want of breath.  
Then released her, stepping back, encircling her wrist with his long fingers, setting their transporters, as they sparked back into life, closing his eyes and forming the thought, 'Tardis'.  
Together, in a flash they whirled up and away.............into an unknown and uncertain future.

**Author's Note:**

> That's it! 
> 
> Now roll on the Zygons!!!


End file.
